Just Truth
by august
Summary: The old Truth-or-dare in a shuttlecraft story . . .


Just Truth by august (appelsini@hotmail.com)  
c1998  
  
  
  
This one was written a while ago, for Gilly.  
No rating necessary, although death is a possibility.   
  
Paramount blah blah blah 

  
  
  
  
"We're going to die here, aren't we?" He asked. 

"Is that your question?" She said, after a moment's hesitation. 

"Yes." He answered quickly, moving his body a little and wincing at the sharp pain that shot up his side. Kathryn had to close her eyes as she saw this, hating the fact that there was nothing she could do for either of them. 

"Yes." She answered, using the same tone that had fired on a hundred ships, challenged a thousand diplomats. 

"Yes." He repeated, letting his eyes wander over the derelict shuttlecraft, wondering again why they never seemed to stay intact for him. "Your turn." 

She nodded and fell quiet. There should be a million questions that should spring to mind. Yesterday she could have thought of a million more things. Like how his medicine bundle always seemed to survive any disaster. Whether or not he cheated on his shuttlecraft piloting exams. 

But right here, right now . . . all the questions flew out of her mind. 

How strange it seemed to think that their lives had changed so much in six hours. Or that they would spend the last hours of their life playing some strange childhood game. She wasn't even sure how it had started . . . the ship had been attacked, the warp drive had lost stability and they had been boarded. The crew had escaped into pods or shuttlecrafts. The last thing she remembered was her shuttlecraft being rocked with phaser blasts, and the console before her had exploded. 

She wasn't sure how long she had been out for. But when she came to, she was sitting in complete darkness with only the blinking lights of the console throwing shadows across her face. She was pretty sure that her arm was broken. And her left leg was trapped underneath something. She tried once, twice to move it. Both times she was rewarded with a dull pain radiating up to her eyelids. 

She counted to ten and continued to assess the situation. There was blood matted on the side of her face. A superficial wound, she decided, as she could still see out of both eyes. She tasted blood in her mouth, but that to could be dealt with. 

And then it hit. 

Chakotay. 

She hadn't been alone in the shuttle, where was he? She strained once more against the mass that was weighing down against her leg, attempting to lift herself up and look about the shuttlecraft. He was there, face down. Whatever had pinned her leg down had fell straight across his back. But he was breathing. 

He was breathing. 

Stretching as far as she could, her hand could just reach his body. So, putting as much effort into it as she could muster, she punched him. Hard. And again. And again. 

He groaned. 

"Wake up, Chakotay. You have concussion, you can't sleep. Wake up." 

"What?" 

"Chakotay, it's me. Do you remember what happened?" 

Silence. 

"Chakotay, come on! Talk to me." 

"I can't feel my legs." 

"I know." She had known, the moment she first saw him. Whatever it was that had fallen clear across his back, had probably snapped his spinal cord in half. He would never walk again. But then, she thought looking around, neither of them were really going to be strolling around the holo-deck any time soon. 

"I just want to sleep Kathryn." He murmured, turning his head away. 

"No, damn you." She punched him hard again. "Wake up! I am not going to die like this alone." 

"Would you please quit punching me?" He asked quietly, and she smiled to herself in the darkness. 

"They didn't survive, did they?" He asked, resting his forehead against the floor and breathing in slowly. 

"The others in the shuttlecrafts might have. The escape pods were destroyed straight away." She didn't recognise her voice, strange as it was. 

He didn't reply. 

"Chakotay?" 

"I'm here." He said. 

"Please talk to me." 

"Kathryn, I'm tired. My best friends have just been killed. I don't know what to say." 

"Ask me something. Anything. Come on." 

"What? Like truth or dare?" 

"What?" It was her turn to be confused. 

"A game we used to play some nights in the Maquis. You can ask a question, or challenge the person to do a physical activity." 

"Okay, we'll play truth or dare. Come on, you first." 

"I don't think either of us are in any position to be daring anything." He laughed. 

"Alright, just truth then." She sighed. "Just keep talking to me, I don't like this darkness, I can't see you. At least let me hear your voice." 

"Anything?" 

"Anything." 

"Okay . . . did you sleep with Q?" 

"What?" She sat up in surprise, and winced as a wave of pain rose over her body. She wished she could see his face, but this damn wreckage was on top of them, between them . . . 

"My question, Kathryn, is did you sleep with Q?" 

"No!" She said indignantly. "This is what you did in the Maquis?" She laughed. "No, I didn't. If I had, we wouldn't still be in the Delta Quadrant, would we?" 

"Oh, you rate yourself that highly, do you?" He chuckled, and it made her smile. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She teased. 

"Yes." He said seriously. "I would." 

She sighed. 

"Do you think . . . one day . . . we could ever have been together?" He asked tentatively. 

"Yes." 

In the silence and the darkness, she could hear his breath being pushed out of his lungs. 

"Why-" 

"-My turn." She interrupted, smiling as he muttered underneath his breath. 

"Well, go on." 

"Did you sleep with Seska on my ship?" 

"Yes." He answered, after a moment's pause. 

"I assume it was before-" 

"-No, no." He mocked. "My turn." They both laughed, a little nervously. "Does it bother you that I was with Seska?" 

"Actually . . . no." He was silent, and the silence forced an explanation. "I think I was . . . am . . . happy that you were with someone." 

"I was never with her." He said seriously, and again she chose to pretend she hadn't heard. 

"My turn." She paused, trying to form her words. "Would it bother you if I was with someone?" 

"Honestly Kathryn, yes." 

Again they were silent, and their eyes wandered up to the blinking consoles, the only things that could be seen in the darkness. 

"Well Chakotay . . ." She begun, looking up at the console and sighing as the structural integrity of the ship fell below fifty percent. "Somehow I don't think that is going to be a problem." 

"How long has it been since you've been with someone?" He asked quickly, moving on. 

"Chakotay! I don't-" 

"-Hey, you said *anything*. And it is my turn." He chuckled. 

"Why if two people are facing death in a shuttlecraft, does the conversation automatically turn to sex?" 

"How long?" He repeated. 

"I was with Mark the night before Voyager left for the Badlands." 

"Ah . . . Mark." He fell silent. "Do you still miss him?" 

"I . . . think of him. Not miss him. And besides . . ." 

". . . yes?" 

"It's my turn." She grinned to herself as he laughed aloud. 

"Somehow I think you're getting the better deal here Kathryn." 

"I never asked . . . if there was anyone for you, back in the Alpha Quadrant." She began. 

"Is that your question?" 

"Yes." 

"No one who would miss me, no." 

"Was it always like that?" 

"After I joined the Maquis, yes." He shrugged. "Anything that happened was more for sheer physical contact than anything else . . . it's hard to explain." 

"I understand." She said softly. "I almost married a man for the same reason." 

It took a moment for him to acknowledge her words. 

"We're talking about Justin now." He said hesitantly. 

"Justin, yes. He was a warm body, you see . . . after the Cardassian camps." For the first time she wished she could see his face, see his reaction. 

"Kathryn?" 

"It was my first mission, I was the science officer on Owen Paris' ship." 

"And?" 

"And . . . we were shot down. Near Cardassia. Spent some time in the camps." 

. . . . 

"I never knew." He said, finally. 

"Don't be conceited, how could you? It's not something that's stamped on your forehead." 

"I never knew." He repeated. 

"It was a long time ago." 

"What happened? When you were in there?" 

"I don't think I need to tell a Maquis what goes on in a Cardassian prison." Something in her voice had changed, closed over. "Do I?" 

"No." He said quietly. "No." 

. . . . 

"Whose turn is it?" She said suddenly, breaking the silence. 

"Yours." He said, his coughing a little to cover the tremble in his voice. 

"Okay . . . do you know where Gerron's still is?" 

"Underneath Replicator 29. In Sick-bay." 

"Sick-bay? But how does he get past the doc? 

"That's two questions, Kathryn. Are we going to make it two questions from now on?" 

"Okay." She said hesitantly. "How does he get it past the Doc?" 

"He paid Harry off to write a sub-routine that de-activates the doctor for ten minutes. Doesn't work during Red Alerts. My turn." 

"Harry? My Harry? But-" 

"-My turn." He repeated and she sighed. "Two questions . . . hmm? What should I ask?" 

"Chakotay!" She warned, and again he laughed. 

"Why did you stay in Starfleet?" He said suddenly, changing the direction of the conversation. 

"What?" 

"After you had seen what went on in Cardassia? Why did you stay in Starfleet?" 

"Ah . . ." She closed her eyes. "I was young. I had spent my whole life being told that Starfleet does not make mistakes." She opened her eyes again. "Because there are two sides to every story. I had to believe that." 

"Second question. Would you go back now, if it happened today?" 

"Honestly, Chakotay? I don't think I will ever be a real member of Starfleet again. I've seen too much . . . we've both done too much to play by those rules anymore." 

He couldn't help but laugh as, given their current circumstances, it wasn't likely that either of them would live long enough to eat another Neelix meal, let alone face Starfleet in the Alpha Quadrant. 

"And . . ." She continued. "You changed things for me." 

"Me?" 

"Yes." She paused, not sure whether she should continue this line of conversation. "You've made it very difficult, Chakotay, for me to see anything the way I once did." 

"I don't understand." 

"You've turned me into a Starfleet Captain who sympathises more with the Maquis than she does with the Federation. Who cares more about a Maquis Captain than she does her finacee." 

"You never told me . . ." 

"I didn't know how." She said softly, hating that she was infusing their last hours with such regret. "I thought, after Kellin, that I had lost you." 

"You never lost me. You're not good for me, you drive me crazy . . . but you never lost me." 

"I'm sorry Chakotay. For it all." 

She could hear him breath in in the darkness. It saddened her. 

"I wish I could kiss you." He said softly. "Would you let me?" 

"Yes." She said, smiling. 

"I want to-" 

"-I know." She echoed. "I know." 

. . . . 

"Kathryn, answer me!!" His voice brought her back to the present, and she smiled faintly to herself. "It's your turn, come on, keep talking to me." 

"Okay . . . what did you have for breakfast this morning?" 

He laughed loudly, and again she had to ignore the pain in his voice as he drew his breath in sharply. "We have half an hour of oxygen left, our ship is gone, god knows where our crew is . . ." His voice lingered off as he breathed in raggedly. "And all you want to know is what I had for breakfast??" 

She smiled faintly, and forced herself to lift her hand up over the wreckage that lay between them. Her fingers clutched at his. "I think that I know everything else that I need to." She voiced it as a question, and he understood. 

"It was Ration Pack C." He answered. "Dehydrated eggs on toast."   
  



End file.
